Why Not Medical School

Today’s poem was inspired by Robert Lee Brewer’s prompt at http://www.writersdigest.com/whats-new/2015-april-pad-challenge-day-16 .




“Ug, this is gross,” I say,

as my fingers glide over the slimy innards.

In eighth grade science class,

we’re dissecting frogs, some of us willingly,

others like me disgusted. “Here’s his stomach,”

my partner says, handing it to me.

Does my stomach look like this, I wonder,

as I hold the oblong object.

It feels squishy–Was it empty?

If not, what did the frog eat before dying?

“Here, hold this part while I cut it,”

Says my partner. I can’t see–

she places my hand where she wants it.

By this time, I’ve had about enough.

My own stomach threatens to divulge its contents.

Without bothering to ask for permission,

I rush from the room, hope never to return.




Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author


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